


A Little Unwell

by WandererRiha



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Sick Fic, Wutai War, non-graphic mentions of gastric distress, non-graphic mentions of vomit, the boys as teens
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-06
Updated: 2019-08-06
Packaged: 2020-08-10 05:24:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,627
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20130055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WandererRiha/pseuds/WandererRiha
Summary: The boys resort to bush medicine.Except for when they can't.





	A Little Unwell

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AssortedGeekery](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AssortedGeekery/gifts).

**Angeal** \- Food Poisoning

Out of everyone in their outfit, Angeal should have been the last person to get food poisoning, not the first. Admittedly, he was usually the one to scold about wasting food and would often eat leftovers that anyone else would have thrown away, but what did that matter to a SOLDIER’s stomach? He was the sort that would eat Gi peppers on a dare with a smile and suffer no adverse effects. As far as anyone else knew, his insides were built of cast iron to match the rest of him.

The MREs might have been vacuum-sealed, but that didn’t mean the food inside them didn’t suffer. Turned out no one had thought to account for the heat of a Wutai summer. The soldiers joked about not needing the chemical heat pack included in each prepackaged meal. The weather boiled everything for them. They got used to it, as they got used to a lot of things; things like a constant haze of mosquitoes, snakes coiling round their ankles with every step, and heat so intense that only sudden, intense thunderstorms could disturb it. Everyone assumed there was enough salt and nitrates in the food to keep it from spoiling. Apparently, they’d thought wrong.

Of course it had to happen when they were deep in country, separated from the rest of the main force on a scouting mission. Angeal stopped once or twice to vomit into the bushes, waving off any concerns.

“I’m fine,” he insisted. “It’s this damn heat. I just need water.”

Sephiroth and Genesis exchanged a look but said nothing. It wasn’t until they broke camp for the night and tried to eat their parboiled rations that things truly got ugly. Angeal scrambled from his seat and stumbled into the bush halfway through the meal. Sephiroth had to swallow extra-hard at the sound of violent retching. They gave him a moment to collect himself, but minutes ticked past and he did not return.

“Angeal?” Genesis called softly, edging into the jungle. “You okay?”

“I’m fine. Stay there.” The words were followed by a stifled groan.

“Yeah, right.”

“The food disagreed with me, that’s all. It’ll pass.”

Good thing it was only a scouting mission and not a surgical strike. Even if it was, this was one instance where both Sephiroth and Genesis would have willingly said ‘to hell with it’ and taken their friend back to base. Angeal was a resource they couldn’t afford to lose.

“Try this,” Sephiroth suggested, handing over the small bottle of locally brewed alcohol that had been put into the first aid kit after the rubbing alcohol had run out. It wouldn’t even put a dent in his blood-alcohol level, but it might kill some of the unwelcome bacteria festering in his gut.

Angeal took it and downed it in one gulp. Despite his SOLDIER’s metabolism, he’d never been a drinker. Angeal claimed not to like the taste of alcohol. If he was willing to knock back bootleg sake like that, he had to be hurting.

No one got much sleep that night. Angeal kept getting up to use the hastily dug latrine, which woke up the other two. Toward dawn, they had to take turns helping him stumble the few feet to the cover of the jungle. By the time the sun came up, he’d run out of fuel. They dragged him between them, exhausted and empty, back to base.

“Thanks guys,” he mumbled as they set him down on a cot. They were still in the jungle, it was still hot, but at least the water was clean and he wouldn’t have to sleep in the dirt. It was funny what you got used to.

**Genesis** \- Parasites

Before Degradation, before the sword injury, the last thing to land Genesis in the med wing had been what the other SOLDIER’s referred to as “smoke bombs”. No one was entirely sure what was in them, but the best guess was a cocktail of pesticides and various industrial chemicals that should not be set on fire. They were chiefly made of old tin cans- soup, coffee, motor oil- and constructed so that the contents sloshed out and instantly ignited upon impact. Sephiroth was honestly curious as to how the Wutaian guerillas had gotten that to work. There was no use of materia involved, he would have noticed. It had to be entirely chemical.

Genesis had had the misfortune to have one blow up virtually in his face. The good thing was that the actual explosion was minimal; no worse than a firecracker. The downside meant that he now had burning toxic sludge all over him. Without hesitation or thought, Sephiroth seized him by the collar and shoved him face-first into the nearest body of water. This happened to be some unfortunate farmer’s flooded rice field. It had the desired effect of putting out the fire. Genesis surfaced coughing and choking, spitting muddy water and thoroughly soaked.

“Thanks,” he grumbled. Sephiroth grinned.

“You’re welcome!”

Several hours later, Sephiroth was feeling a bit guilty about his cheek. Although he kept up with the rest of the troops on their trek through the Wutaian backcountry, Genesis didn’t look too good.

“You okay?” Angeal asked.

“Stomach cramps,” Genesis huffed. “Drank too much water all at once. I’ll be fine.”

Of course, he wasn’t. He couldn’t eat when they finally made camp, and spent most of the evening curled up on his sleeping bag. By nightfall he’d broken into a sweat that had nothing to do with the heat, and shivered as if he couldn’t get warm.

“I don’t feel so good,” he mumbled as Angeal put a hand to his head. For Genesis to admit discomfort was a bad sign. Anything that could overcome his stubborn pride could not be good.

“You’re burning up. How the hell does a SOLDIER get sick like this? We all got mako boosters before we left so it can’t be that.”

“Hey, what’s that on your back?” Sephiroth asked.

“What?” Genesis’ T-shirt had scrunched up around his underarms, leaving his back and stomach exposed. There were a couple of little wiggly black lines squirming near his belt line.

“I’m not being weird,” Sephiroth promised, hooking a finger on Genesis’ belt and tugging it down an inch.

“_Do you mind?!_”

“You’ve got leeches or something.”

“Well get ‘em off!”

Sephiroth obligingly picked the worms off and squashed them underfoot. They’d been feeding on SOLDIER blood and the last thing anyone needed was SOLDIER-grade parasites. He could only imagine their impact so far on the local spider, tick, and mosquito population. Wait a minute.

“Did you swallow any of the water when you fell in?”

“I dunno. Maybe. Why?”

“What if you’ve got those inside?”

“If you’re trying to make me puke, it’s working.”

“Honestly, we’re probably gonna have to try the other end.”

Genesis looked over his shoulder at him with a mix of intrigue and dread. Sephiroth pulled out his service revolver and popped out one of the bullets. Holding it in his palm, he offered it to Genesis.

“...what am I supposed to do with that?”

“Swallow it.”

“This has got to be the weirdest dare I’ve ever had. I’m not swallowing that!”

Sephiroth sighed. “The things you learn growing up in a lab. Believe it or not, there’s actual science behind this. A hundred years ago there used to be a market for antimony pills. Antimony is derived from lead. Once swallowed, your body will do anything to get rid of the toxin. The next few hours will be hell, but at least you won’t have creepy-crawlies. Besides, you’re a SOLDIER, you’ll be fine.”

Genesis looked to Angeal who had sat so far in dumbfounded silence.

“I hate to say it, but he’s actually right. We don’t really have another way to treat parasites right now.”

With a sigh, Genesis took the bullet from Sephiroth’s hand. “Fine.”

It took several agonizing hours for the bullet to make its way through. Angeal and Sephiroth sat up with him, trying to distract or make Genesis more comfortable. It took both of them to help him to the latrine. They didn’t bother to try to retrieve the bullet.

“I’m not doing that again,” Genesis gasped as they laid him down on his sleeping bag.

“Feel better?” Sephiroth asked.

“Yes, actually.”

“Get some sleep,” Angeal told him. “With any luck, the mutant mako-leeches won’t come for us in the night.”

**Sephiroth** \- Biological Warfare

This wasn’t spoiled food or tainted water, this was something else. This was _deliberate_, and to the average soldier, deadly. Sephiroth’s unit had pushed ahead, and so they had been first to engage. They’d donned gas masks- now standard issue since the smoke bombs were getting fancier- but it didn’t help much. The guerrillas were using bigger cans now; one pound coffee tins, empty paint cans, even a few rusty old tin pails. They still worked the same way, bursting into a fountain of flaming tar wherever they landed. Except the explosions were bigger now.

The contents rained down in an oily mist. It blistered skin and seared the eyes. Breathing it in was like inhaling pure lye. Maybe that’s what it was? His men fought bravely, but in the end, only half his unit struggled back to base, blistered and bleeding. By now, however, they had a procedure. He radioed ahead, and by the time they made it back, Genesis, Angeal, and the others were ready for them.

“Heads up!”

Sephiroth braced himself for the slosh of tepid water over his head. It was welcome at this point. He gladly accepted a second ducking which made it feel as if the air had forgiven him, if grudgingly. Breathing had felt like inhaling pins and needles pointy-end first. He coughed, trying to clear the sharp feeling and spat bloody foam between his boots. That couldn’t be good.

“Seph, your _face!_”

Sephiroth squinted through blurry eyes to mark Genesis’ ginger hair. All other details were lost.

“What?” he asked, moving to touch his cheeks.

“No don’t!” Genesis grabbed his wrists. “We need to get you treated.”

Sephiroth followed obediently as Genesis pulled him toward their medic. His clothes were peeled off and taken away to have the chemicals soaked out of them. What would that do to the ground water, he wondered, to the plant and animal life? Only his arms and face had suffered, the rest of him had been covered. Maybe they should start wearing long sleeves despite the heat? He started as the medic began slathering something all over his face and more on his arms. To his still stinging eyes, it looked like mud. Felt like mud too.

“It’s mud,” the medic explained. “This’ll suck up the oils and chemicals on your skin. Let it dry before you try to wash it off and _don’t_ get it in your eyes. I’ll cast a Cure on you once it’s off.”

“Yessir,” Sephiroth mumbled despite outranking the medic. One didn’t argue with the healers.

They’d had to resort to this sort of bush medicine for two reasons: first, it was possible to build up an intolerance to healing magic and so it tended to be reserved for only the most serious injuries; second, healing magic didn’t seem to work on this crud. They’d tried Poisona, Esuna, Remedies, and more, but nothing worked. Not until the chemicals had been washed off could any healing agent take effect.

“My men?” The words ended in more coughing, more blood. The panicked look on the medic’s face was easier to parse at this close a distance.

“They’re being treated,” the medic said tensely. “Rest here until the mud dries.”

“Yessir.”

Sephiroth sat on his cot obediently, not moving, just taking prickly deep breaths to try to clear his lungs and sinuses. It wasn’t working very well. Maybe he should eat one of Angeal’s Gi peppers, or have some Wutaian spicy mimett greens for lunch. Those would either cure him or kill him.

“Seph?” Angeal’s bulky form loomed into view. “You okay? You look like hell.”

“My men?” he repeated.

“They’re...we’re working on it,” Genesis said, coming into view beside Angeal. He leaned down, peering into Sephiroth’s face. “Can you even see us?”

“Kinda.”

Angeal disappeared for a moment, and then everything did as a cool cloth was placed over Sephiroth’s eyes.

“Blink,” Angeal instructed. Sephiroth did as he was told, feeling his eyelashes brush against the fabric. Almost at once, the sting returned and his eyes began to water.

“Ah! Gods…” he twisted away as Angeal wiped at his eyes.

“Hold still!”

Reluctantly, Sephiroth tried not to move. It wasn’t easy. When Angeal removed the cloth, however, he could see straight again.

“Dunno why the medic didn’t do that,” Angeal grumbled. “Guess he’s got enough to deal with. Sometimes I wish people didn’t think we were indestructible.”

Heidigger and a couple of memorable ops came to mind at that. Sephiroth nodded and felt the mud around his neck crumble.

“Yeah. They wash my gear yet?”

“No, it’s all in a pile waiting to be hosed down.”

“Don’t.”

They both looked at him funny.

“Don’t wash it. Dunno what the hell that was, but it was nasty, even worse than the last time. HQ’s gonna want to analyze it. See what it is. Pack up some contaminated stuff and make sure it’s sealed good.”

Angeal nodded. “Good idea. Think it’d eat through plastic?”

“Definitely. Use something metal. S’what the Wutes use.”

Genesis cringed. “Good point.”

Too bad they didn’t have an unexploded can of the stuff, but Sephiroth didn’t really want to try to ship _that_ back to Midgar. He blinked his still streaming eyes. Holding them open had suddenly become much harder.

“I’ll stay with him,” Angeal volunteered. “You go see about getting everyone’s gear either packed or decontaminated.”

“Right.” Genesis’ answer and salute were a little shaky. He didn’t deal well with injury when it was someone he knew. Angeal had a slightly stronger stomach when it came to blood n’ guts. He pulled what the troops had been dubbed ‘the butler’s bell’ down and under Sephiroth’s arms. It made a short rope swing for him to hang on so he could fall asleep sitting up. They’d learned the hard way that anyone lying down after inhaling vapors from a smoke bomb ran the risk of drowning in their own fluids.

Sephiroth startled himself awake several times, choking for air. Angeal’s soothing voice and hand on his back calmed him somewhat, assured him he wasn’t alone. The first time the bloody sputum came up on its own, nearly filling the bucket Angeal had set between his feet. The second time was harder, the air coming sharp and cold into his abused lungs. The third time, he coughed and coughed until he gagged, bringing up bile and as well as blood.

“Seph?”

That was Angeal’s strong arm around him, Angeal’s too-warm shoulder against his cheek. Had to be. It was his voice. Sephiroth tried to answer, but it hurt. Breathing took up all his strength, his concentration, leaving no room for anything else, let alone speech. He tried to swallow but his mouth was dry as the clay on his face.

“You got that Cure ready?”

“Yeah.”

Magic fizzed around him, tickling his nose, but even sneezing felt like too much work. A moment’s relief briefly chased away the horrible burning sensation that had taken over his entire body. He tasted tin as someone held a cup to his lips.

“Rinse and spit,” Angeal told him. “Do _not_ swallow.”

Sephiroth did as he was told, though the urge to swallow was strong. He was so thirsty. The cup was taken away, and then returned.

“Here, take a sip if you want.”

Sephiroth tried, but his throat didn’t work. He wound up spilling it down his chin.

“That’s okay.” Angeal pressed a cloth to his face and neck. “Don’t worry about it.”

“How’s he doing?” That was Genesis.

“Not great,” Angeal admitted. “What happened to you? Didn’t you wear protective gear?”

“Yeah, but this stuff eats through rubber. I think we’d have done better to wrap ourselves in tinfoil. We got everything packed in two of the ammunition cases; put one inside the other. That should hold until it gets to Midgar. They’ll have the equipment to deal with it.”

“Who else helped?”

“Two of my Thirds. Angeal...the troops…”

“I know.” His voice was grim, melancholy, and Sephiroth’s heart sank. He knew what that tone meant. The men he’d led into the jungle had been mostly troopers; only a Second and Third besides himself had been SOLDIERs. No one had to tell him outright, Angeal’s voice was enough. The troopers were either dying, or already dead. The other SOLDIERs probably weren’t in much better shape than he was.

“Go hose down and get yourself a facial,” Angeal ordered. “Don’t need you getting KOed too.”

“Right.”

\--

The next time he choked himself awake, it was Genesis next to him.

“Easy, Seph.” Genesis’ voice was scratchy and there was panic seeping through his attempt to be brave and comforting. It took Sephiroth a minute to realize he was no longer strung on the butler’s bell. Instead, someone’s arms were around his middle. A pointy chin rested on his shoulder. Behind him, there was something warm and solid.

“It’s just me,” Genesis went on. “They’re sending us home for a little bit. Shore leave. Angeal’s gonna stay here and hold down the fort. Wish he could come too but, orders.”

Sephiroth could feel him shrug. The mud had been washed off his face and arms, his vision was less blurry, but he couldn’t get his eyes to make sense of anything.

“Just hang in there. It’s only two days across the ocean. You can make it that far, right?”

For once, Sephiroth wasn’t sure he could. He felt as if he was only loosely tethered to his body; only pain and hunger holding his soul in place. Or maybe it was Genesis’ arms keeping him in his body. Without them, his spirit might float away.

“No dying,” Genesis commanded. “That’s an order.”

Sephiroth groped until he found Genesis’ hand and gripped it as tightly as he could manage. It was the closest he could come to a ‘yes, sir’.

\--

Conscious stole upon him more gently than it had in awhile. One by one, his systems booted up and Sephiroth realized he felt remarkably not terrible. Not great, but not terrible. He was sore, starving, and stiff in a way that suggested he hadn’t been able to move for a while.

Above him, someone breathed out heavily.

“Welcome back. I was wondering how long you’d keep us waiting.”

The tone was sharp and snide, and yet there was something below it that almost sounded like relief. The voice belonged to Professor Hojo, so that couldn’t possibly be right.

“You’ve been out for the better part of a week,” Hojo went on, the scratching scribble of a ballpoint pen accenting his words. “Of course I had every confidence in my work. Heidigger had the nerve to lecture me on abusing specimens and wasting samples. As if that old war-monger knew anything at all about science! As if he thought about anything besides tanks and grenades. Thinks everything we give him is just another toy to break. He’s just lucky you boys are made of sterner stuff. I gave him a piece of my mind. You should have seen his face.”

Sephiroth squinted up at the professor. There was… It was strange. He’d never seen the professor smile before. Sephiroth wasn’t sure if he ought to be worried or not.

“Gen…?” he croaked.

“Genesis is right over there.” Without looking up, the professor pointed with his pen at the next bed. “Not so badly off as you, but I wanted a subject for additional testing and study that wasn’t in such a delicate state. You boys have given us some very interesting data.”

Sephiroth rolled his blistered eyes, but couldn’t help smiling a little. Reading between the lines, it almost sounded like the old bastard was glad they were alive.

“I’ve already made some recommendations,” Hojo was still talking. “There will be some modifications made to the uniform; chief among them will be full face visors for the helmets. Can’t risk jeopardizing such valuable resources again. We’re also working on a counter agent for those smoke bombs you’ve been dealing with. I think we can synthesize an adequate panacea. It worked well enough on you two, anyway.”

Hojo’s nattering gradually faded as he walked away and out the door. Sephiroth turned to see Genesis watching him from the next bed. Without a word, he got up and came over to sit on the edge of Sephiroth’s mattress. It took more effort than Sephiroth would have liked to turn from his side onto his back. They must have been afraid he’d puke in his sleep.

“You okay?” Genesis didn’t bother to hide the concern in his expression or tone.

“Thanks to you.”

That made him smile. Leaning, he laid his head on Sephiroth’s shoulder and put his arms around him. There wasn’t a lot of room on the narrow twin mattress, so Sephiroth scooted over as much as he could. Genesis did not let go.

“You stopped breathing,” Genesis murmured. “Twice. Once on the boat, once here. I thought… I thought…” His voice trailed off and he hid his face in Sephiroth’s throat

Sephiroth snugged his arms around his friend, turned so his chin was resting on Genesis’ head.

“I didn’t. Thanks to you.”

“Just don’t do that again. Promise me.”

Sephiroth smiled a little and patted his shoulder. “I won’t. I promise.”


End file.
